Should Auld Aquaintance
by Uncle Charlie
Summary: It's the day Illya Kuryakin fears, but there's no getting around it.


It caught him off guard. One day he was just going about his business and then suddenly it was here. The one day that he always dreaded. There was no way to miss the meticulously written word or the emotions accompanying it. Perhaps it was wrong to make such a big deal out of the event, but he couldn't deny how he felt.

Illya Kuryakin dropped onto his couch and sighed… heavily. Still there was no way around it or any real excuse to delay the task, no matter how unpleasant. He leaned over and pulled out his wallet. The butter soft leather made him smile. He'd argued with Napoleon that the gift had been too expensive, but he loved the feel of it in his hands and the memories around it.

Opening it, he pulled a folded piece of paper out and carefully smoothed it out. It was so old and worn there were little pinholes in the intersections of the folds. Numbers had been changed, erased, rewritten until the paper was practically see through. Yet, he could not bear to part with it. It said home to him and holding it was like being back there, if only for a brief second.

Illya stood and walked to the desk, pulling out a neatly-arranged drawer. The little black book was in its designated place. Reverently, Illya picked it up and flipped it open. For a moment, he hoped beyond hope, that perhaps it was too soon. Perhaps he would lack the funds, but there was in black and white and carefully initialed. There could be no doubt.

Taking a deep breath, Illya walked back to the bedroom and started to dress. He chose his clothes with deliberate care, considering each article before putting it on. He knew Napoleon would be pacing and checking his watch, but this day was special. He would not be rushed.

QQQQ

"Finally!" Napoleon hit the accelerator as quickly as Illya climbed in and pulled the door shut. "Mr. Waverly is going to have my hide this morning. He didn't buy my last excuse at all."

"Telling him you were late because there was an escaped giraffe blocking all lanes of traffic was creative."

"It was the truth. I swear there is a cover up about it."

Illya permitted himself a small smile. To be honest, it was all he could muster. Napoleon shot him a fast look as he swerved through traffic.

"What's wrong," Solo finally asked and Illya grew sober.

"It is the day."

"You act like you're losing your best friend."

"In a way, it feels just like that. Then the time goes by and the pain lessens, only to have the wound ripped open again."

"Oh, for crying-" Napoleon's communicator went off and he grabbed, holding it out to Illya. He uncapped it and passed it back over. "Solo here."

"Mr. Solo, you are late."

"Yes, sir, but Illya…"

"No excuses, Mr. Solo. Please report to my office as soon as you arrive."

"What about Mr. Kuryakin, sir?" Illya rolled his eyes at his partner.

"Surely you know what day this is. I suspect he will be preoccupied for the morning, at least."

"I don't-"

"No, Mr. Solo, you wouldn't. I will expect you within the hour. Out."

"Just once, I'd like to know what you have on Mr. Waverly to make him treat you with kid gloves."

"I merely do my job to the best of my ability."

Napoleon made a face and then turned his attention to driving.

QQQQ

Illya walked slowly towards the agent's entrance, each step was harder to take for each one brought him closer to his ultimate destination. There was a roiling in his stomach, a combination of anticipation and dread, that made him want to turn and run.

He made it down the last few stairs and through the door. The bells above it jingled merrily and Illya wanted to whip out his pistol and shoot them. Nothing had to right to be cheerful today.

Del Floria, actually one of the many agents assigned to the role, stood behind the counter, pressing a shirt. He didn't pay much attention to Illya until the agent came to stand before him.

"Mr. Kuryakin?"

"It's time."

"Already? The time goes so fast these days. You have it?" Del reached out a gnarled hand.

Reluctantly, Illya handed over the much-folded paper with a sigh. "I am assuming the usual terms will apply."

"I can ask, but yes, that would be a safe assumption. If you are ready?" Del gestured to a curtained room, a very different one than the changing booths. This one was reserved for special services.

QQQQ

"Hey, Napoleon." The receptionist glanced up as Napoleon hurried into the parking garage entrance. "I wasn't expecting to see you today. Where's your partner in crime?" Napoleon just looked at her and she gasped. "Wow. That was a fast year."

"You're telling me. Now I will have to listen to him complain and grumble for the next two months. I just don't see why it is such a big deal. I mean, I get new suits all the time."


End file.
